by London Casey
I threw my head and hair back.
I stared at him.
He thrust forward and brought all of himself forward. He barreled into me, pressing his body against mine, pushing me against the sink. The sudden rush of being full, along with my own pleasure still tingling everywhere, I lost my breath. I suddenly felt like I could cry but in the happiest way possible.
How could one man take all my emotions and fuck with them so badly?
He held himself inside me for a few seconds and devoured me with his eyes.
Then he started to fuck me.
Pulling, pushing, thrusting. His body crashing into mine, my body crashing into the sink. I moved to my toes and tried to thrust back at him, but this was all Roman. Complete control of my body again. My left hand held the edge of the sink while my right hand touched the mirror. I pressed so hard against it I thought it was going to shatter.
He sped up, hissing as he did so. I felt his cock pulsing, filling up to the level right before exploding. It was in its own sick way romantic because I could tell he hadn’t been with anyone else but me. I knew that was a big deal for him. And it was a big deal for me. I wasn’t going to be treated like a whore - or a high paid lady of the night.
My eyes were locked with his.
I hate you, Roman.
I love you, Roman.
“Ah, fuck, sweetie,” he groaned and then thrust forward one more time.
He came deep inside me, leaving me almost jumping off my toes with the intense feeling. Quickly, he reached for the front of me and stood me up. That caused a whole new sensation of pressure. That same hand slid up to my chin. With two fingers he turned my head so I was sort of facing him.
We kissed again.
That’s what got to me.
The kissing.
I could understand fucking. That was one thing. The sense of need and relief. But kissing had such a more intimate feeling to it because there was no pay off like coming during sex.
Yet we stood there, kissing like we had nothing but time to waste, together forever.
His dick was still inside me, pulsing with the beat of his heart, lessening by the second.
When he pulled from me, the gush between my legs made me reach forward.
Roman then tucked himself away.
He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. He put his cheek next to mine. “Don’t fuck with me, sweetie.”
I had no idea what that meant, but he left the bathroom before I could ask.
I stood there a mess… physically and emotionally.
(Roman)
The pizza was the best I ever had. The wine was rich and smooth. I only had one glass, being the responsible driver I was, I didn’t need a DUI on top of my street racing charges that were still pending.
Willow, however, indulged in three glasses.
One made her giddy. Two made her have drunk eyes. Three… and she let down all her walls.
She squinted at me and pointed. “You did all this on purpose to me.”
“Did what?” I asked.
“Messed with me. You knew what Ted was trying to accomplish. You all made me a pawn. I was hired by Jay because of my tits. That’s right. I said it, finally. It was my job to always keep the horny men looking at me. Keep people distracted. I slipped up once with one case and next thing I know, I’m in a board room with Jay and Ted. Offering me money, telling me to watch you. Dangling a carrot in front of me and I could never get it.”
“What do you want me to say to that? I had nothing to do with it.”
“But you could,” she said. “You could just confess who you are. Tell everyone about your past. About the donations you make. You could fix everything in a second.”
“I don’t live that way.”
“Why?”
“Because I hate it all.” I let those words slip a little too fast and easily.
“You hate what?”
“Football. The team. Everything to do with it.”
“Then why…”
“Money,” I said. “That’s the truth. I picked up a football and could throw it. Each time I threw the football it was a step away from where I was in life. I went with the motions and did what I had to do. Does that make me an asshole?”
“No,” Willow said. “No, Roman, that doesn’t make you an asshole. Everything else does though.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I looked around. “How about we get out of here? I think this has served our purpose.”
“Hey, wait,” Willow said.
I was already standing. I had enough of this. The dating thing… fuck. My feelings were out of control for this woman and I couldn’t control myself. Part of me wanted to fuck her again. Part of me wanted to leave her somewhere and never see her again.
Anthony knew to square up with my accountant for the charges for the evening.
When we got to the front door, the man there put a hand out.
“Mr. Knight…”
I grabbed his wrist and twisted. “Don’t fucking…”
“Roman!” Willow yelled. “Don’t hurt him.”
There was a flash of light that almost blinded me.
“Shit,” I yelled.
“Sir, there’s cameras out there,” the man said.
“Fuck. Sorry.” I looked around. “How do we get out of here?”
“The back, sir. It’s secure.”
That worked out because that’s where I parked the car.
I grabbed Willow and we rushed through the restaurant. It was us against the paparazzi. We made it outside and halfway to my car before I heard someone yell my name. I really didn’t give a damn about myself, this wasn’t fair to Willow.
As we ran, she stumbled, fell into me, and started to laugh. I quickly lifted her and carried her. Her laugh became contagious and I started to laugh too. I ran to the front of my car and jumped on it, sliding across it like I’d seen guys do in movies. As I did, Willow screamed and clutched my neck.
The world suddenly came to a stop.
My right foot was on the ground, my ass still on the hood of the car. I was holding Willow. Like, romantically holding her. Yeah, she was a little drunk and her eyes were a lot glossy, but I could see it. I could feel it.
“Shit,” I whispered.
“Shit,” she said back to me.
That was the moment. The moment.
I opened my mouth, the alpha jock in me screaming to remind me of all the delicious pussy out in the world I hadn’t tasted yet. I was going to say something that would change our lives forever.
“Roman!”
“We have to go,” I whispered.
“Take me away, Roman.”
My heart stung a little. Kind of like getting the old engine of an old car to kick over. That’s what it felt like in my chest.
I scrambled again to get Willow in the car.
I got in the driver’s seat.
The fucking paparazzi were everywhere. They swarmed the car like pissed off hornets looking for a target.
“Cover your face,” I said to Willow.
“Why?”
Flashes were going off.
Doesn’t mater now.
I crept forward and made it well known I’d run someone over if I had to.
“Be careful!” Willow yelled.
I had made this maneuver many times.
I cut the wheel, hit the gas, and claimed my dominance in the battle.
When I was safe enough away from the leeches, I hit the gas harder, squealing the tires, giving them all something to write about.
Another Knight, Another Race!
Some stupid fucking headline that people would eat up.
Didn’t everyone have enough drama in their own lives?
I sped away, Willow by my side.
It felt right and it felt fitting.
And it fucking scared me.
I took her to my place.
I tossed Willow over my shoulder and carried her up the stairs and into the apartment. Her laugh was amazing. I did
n’t know why I never heard it that way before. Maybe I just never made her laugh. Considering I had been rude, gotten into a fight, fucked her twice, and then got arrested, I guess we didn’t have much time for laughter, did we?
The second we were in the apartment, the look in her eyes was giving everything away.
She wasn’t going to give up until she knew everything about me.
In some way I appreciated it. In some way I hated her for it.
“I don’t have wine,” I said.
“Beer is fine.”
“I like you.”
I walked by her and she grabbed my shirt. “Roman. I like you too.”
It was awkward and had some real implied meaning to it.
I got her a drink and she looked around the apartment. Yeah, I knew it was overzealous, but what the fuck did I care? I had custom lighting throughout the place, timers and dimmers on everything. A state of the art security system to keep my shit safe. Everything was black or silver, a subtle yet powerful presence to the place. It was big, open, wide, and comfortable. It meant something because I felt like all I had done growing up was hide. It was my only means to survive back then.
Willow walked to a picture on the wall. It was some weird ass shapes. She tilted her head side to side, studying it.
“Sweetie,” I said. “Don’t look too much into it. I had someone pick it out to match the room. None of this shit in here has meaning to me. I have a box in the one closet that has trophies and a few footballs that mean something. But that…”
“Holy shit,” Willow whispered.
“What?”
“This painting. My friend did it.”
“What?”
“Look. The signature.” She pointed. “That’s Scarlett’s signature.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah. Wow. This is…”
She smiled so big.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I ever took Scarlett all that serious. I mean, she’s forever busy. Always painting and working. I mean, her work is in your apartment.”
I laughed. “To be fair, I didn’t pick it out. I honestly haven’t studied it like you just did. There was a blank spot in the wall and the interior decorator told me I needed to fill it in.”
“That’s the most non bad ass thing you’ve ever said.”
“I guess I’m not all thorns after all.”
“Just one rose though, huh?” Willow asked.
Goddamn, she was so sexy when she flirted. And drunk flirting… she was spot on. No fear. No worry.
“So, where does the highest paid quarterback in the league sleep?”
And there it was…
“I sleep in a bed.”
“I’d like to see that bed.”
“Better let me check first,” I said. “In case someone’s there.”
Willow’s face dropped. “That’s not even close to being funny.”
“Hey, I can’t be arrested that way.”
“Trust me, I know you, Roman. You can get arrested any time, any place.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“Charm. Right.”
Willow walked down the hall. I watched her for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. Normally taking a woman to the bedroom was as natural as throwing a pass. Willow made it all feel different somehow.
I followed and stopped in the doorway to my room.
Yeah, it was really nice.
And really fucking big.
Willow stood in the middle of the floor, slowly turning. “I think this room is bigger than my entire apartment.”
“The benefits of learning how to throw a football,” I said.
“Look at that bed.”
I liked my bed. It was custom made and could easily fit eight people. I won’t confess how I knew that to be true though. You can use your imagination.
The room was a really dark red, almost black color. I liked it because the walls looked black until light hit them. That’s when you saw the red color.
“How much did all this cost?” Willow asked.
I smiled. “A lot of money, sweetie. But I have a lot of money, so what does it matter?”
“I have a lot of debt,” she said. “So, ha.”
I understood what she meant. It did cross my mind a few times that there were people who went to med school, law school, became teachers, and did things for the world that were amazing. They were people who sometimes got stuck with debt, low pay, but they did it anyway. They were all better than me.
I was greedy for survival and that’s what took me to the place I did.
I walked into my room, my eyes right on Willow. “Want to know the funny thing?”
“What?”
“All this shit in here,” Roman said. “All this money pissed away on stuff. None of it matters though. You look at it and you see something different than I do.”
“And what exactly do you see?”
“Right now? I see you, Willow. Everything and everyone else means nothing. It is nothing when I’m with you.”
“What does that do for us then?” she asked. “I’m not really a relationship person and I know you aren’t.”
“Sweetie, we’ve been in a relationship from the second you saw me throw that first ball. You’ve been chasing after me and I’ve been running. Then I was chasing you - well, pulling you on top of me - and you were running. Maybe that’s what we do. Push and pull.”
“I won’t go on any other dates,” she said. “As long as you stay out of jail.”
I laughed. “That’s a decent enough deal. I think I can shake on that.”
“But I want more,” she said. “And you know exactly what that means.”
I stepped back to the bed and sat down. “You want more, sweetie, come get it.”
I loved flirting with her just to see what she would do.
Willow stepped right toward me and put her hands on my shoulders. I grabbed the bottom of her hoodie and lifted it. She took it off and leaned at me again. I was able to see down her tank top to her bra. Her tits were pressing against her bra, looking delicious. My hands touched her waist, feeling her warm, smooth skin.
Her hands touched my neck, her nails digging in. She thrust her hips at me and then let out a breath. She was frustrated with me. But she was falling for me. I didn’t set out to have her fall for me. But shit happens in life.
“You picked a fucked up guy to hang with,” I said. My hands touched the small of her back. “But I like it.”
“Me too,” she said. “I won’t hurt you, Roman. No matter what happens. I want you to trust me.”
Willow leaned down and kissed me. A soft, little kiss to my lips. My hands raced up her back, wanting more, but Willow pulled away from me. She took a step back and then dropped to her knees. I leaned back and watched as she put her hands to my legs and slid up, her right hand cupping between my legs. My cock was already half full. It had been half full from the second I saw Willow walk down the hall toward my room.
She opened my jeans and pulled, forcing my jeans down. My cock pressed against my boxers, pitching a tent… fuck, more like a skyscraper. Willow let her fingers touch my abs before curling around the top of my boxers and tugging.
I lifted up and watched my cock pop free. Willow quickly latched a hand to the middle of my shaft, trying to squeeze me tight. She jerked her hand up and down at my shaft, root to tip. She moved slowly, scaling me, and it felt fucking good.
As she positioned herself over me, she tried to tuck her hair behind her ears. Something so little that she did like that drove me fucking nuts. The blood rushed through my body, most of it pumping straight to my cock. It took a lot of work to keep something that big that hard for that long. But I felt blood racing to my heart. I started to feel shit for Willow that…
She put her lips to the head of my cock and kissed. Her hand gripped at my thick root and pumped. I sighed and felt myself oozing a little. Willow’s tongue was there to lap it up, swirling arou
nd my tip. She made circles over and over, her eyes looking up at me as she did it. She went down on me, her lips sliding down my shaft. Her mouth was tight because my cock was thick. She eased her way down and eased her way back up.
Her mouth came off me and she brought her hand up and stroked me hard and fast, letting her spit allow her to speed up with ease.
My ass flexed and I thrust. The instinctive need to come was never going to go away with me. I could fire one off right now and go five minutes later. It was an endless supply.
I gritted my teeth as she came down again. This time she took more of me. And this time she didn’t pull off. She kept going, up and down. Within a few seconds, her hair was in her face. But that wasn’t stopping her. She just kept going, her mouth and hand working together. I thrust up at her, testing her, wanting to break her limits, but it seemed there were none. I had to admit it that she surprised me. She went down and held there, leaving me to feel her tongue forcing its way to move left to right against the bottom of my shaft.
I felt myself ready to come again.
I thrust at her again, lifting my ass off the bed and planting my feet on the floor. I pumped up and down as Willow just remained there, taking me over and over. She was perfect. She was beautiful. I fucking… I think I lo…
“Ah, fuck,” I growled.
Willow sped up even more. Her hand stroked my shaft as her mouth focused right at the ridge at the tip of my cock. The most sensitive spot on my dick and she knew how to work that. Her lips moving up and down on it, making it impossible to hold back.
I came, the first intense spurt shooting into her mouth. She groaned and kept going. Each time my shaft pulsed, giving her more, she groaned. The vibrations only made it feel better and kept me coming.
She stayed right on top of me, even after I was finished. Her mouth moving so beautifully slow. When she finally came off me, her hand followed next, squeezing at me. She ran her hand through her hair and looked at me. Her lips were pouty from working so hard. Her eyes were filled with lust.
She thought she had me won over.
But she was fucking wrong.
My dick was still hard.
I wasn’t done yet…
I put her against the back wall of my bedroom. She was eye level with me, her eyes and mouth both wide. My tongue craved her neck and I kissed her as I lowered her down on me. I thrust up into her, showing her what she did to me.
